Ruby Brown
by Guardian-381
Summary: Solomon enlists the help of an old acquaintace in unmasking the Phantom Thief Noir.
1. Janus' Avatar

Author's Note: It seems that I can't shake the Gorgeous Carat fandom... (laughs) Hello, again, everyone! I really hope you enjoy this story, and that you won't be turned off by the existence of an original character. It's sad how maligned some of them can be because some writers (admittedly, a portion which constitutes the majority) don't know how to handle them, but I think that, in the right context, they can add something to a story that a canon character, by virtue of their nature, cannot. I hope that this story may stand as proof of that hypothesis. 

Also, please be aware that this story takes place after my last work, "The Captain", in which Laila leaves Noir's service. It should stand on its own reasonably well, but I thought it best to make a note of this fact, in case anyone should wonder about Laila's absence.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Gorgeous Carat. Furthermore, I recognize that Ruby, my original character, grew out of the songs "Ruby Brown" by Deana Carter and "Ruby Through the Looking-Glass" by Tori Amos.

Dedication: To Astra, Queen of the Gorgeous Carat fandom. You Higuri may own the jewels, but you own their progeny.

Chapter 1- Janus' Avatar

"So, you're clear on what needs to be done?"

The neatly-manicured fingers of a pale hand tapped against the armrest of its owner's chair. "Perfectly. Of course, I understood it just as well the first time you outlined it." Lightly-painted lips, tinged the most natural shade of pink, curved into a smile. "Do you imagine that I am a simpleton, Solomon?"

Solomon grinned half-heartedly, circled his desk, and sat down in his own chair. "Not at all. I know you're the best."

"The best you can get on your budget, at any rate." A lock of blonde hair escaped the barrette holding it back from its owner's face, and she tucked it behind her ear with an ease that was almost unconscious. "On a more… pragmatic note, once I've accomplished this task for you, my debt will be repaid?"

"In full." Solomon's grin grew broader, though no more sincere. "Bring me proof positive that Ray Balzac Courland is the Phantom Thief Noir, and you need never hear from me again."

A laugh, as soft and intrusive as the sound of a dinner-bell. "I can't say that I'd be glad to dispense with our acquaintanceship. You can be a rather… interesting man."

"That's not what you said when we last parted ways."

The rustle of green silk on upholstery preceded the click of sensible heels on the wood planks of the floor. "Well, things change, don't they? I find you much more bearable now that you've dispensed with that… lawfulness of yours."

Solomon looked away from her in the belief that, because her back was turned in his direction, she wouldn't notice. "You still know just how to twist a knife."

"You sound surprised. Isn't that the very reason you hired me?" Without waiting for a response, she left the room, and the click of his apartment door closing behind her made its way to Solomon's attention moments later.

"Is it, really?" he asked the chair she had vacated.

No response was forthcoming.

----

"You shouldn't have to do this."

Florian looked up from the folded shopping list in his hand, and smiled at Noir as he slipped it into his pocket. "My helping the servants is nothing new."

"Granted. However, you've already overseen the cleaning of the entire first floor, compiled the menu for the rest of the week, and made space for those fifteen new books on the library shelves." Ash fell from Noir's cigar as he shook it in Florian's direction, as though he meant to stab punctuation into the air between them. "I won't stand for you overworking yourself."

Florian clicked his tongue at the ash on the carpet, and went to retrieve a hand broom from the bottom of a nearby closet. "Well, if you're so worried about that, why haven't you hired any new servants since Laila left? The stack of applications on your desk is quickly turning into another ornament for me to dust." He emptied the dustpan into the closest wastebasket, and replaced the broom in the closet.

"It's not so easy." Noir placed his cigar to his lips and inhaled deeply. "Most of the applicants are just gossip-mongers hoping to work in a god-damn society drama. They'll spend more time staring at us and reporting whatever they see to whoever'll listen than working."

"I don't think that's true. Certainly, most of them seemed that way, but there were a few that looked promising."

"Name one." Noir's eyes flashed challengingly.

"Madame le Mercier? About fifty, looking for work to help her husband while he's recovering from surgery?"

Noir snorted, and the tendrils of smoke that he expelled through his nostrils in the process made him look enough like a fairy-tale dragon that Florian had to stop himself from laughing. "Damn hard-luck story. I'm sure she's just like the rest of them."

"That's not the impression I got when she came here to apply, but I won't argue with you." Florian glanced at his watch. "The stores close in two hours, and they're going to be crowded."

"Do you want me to go instead?"

This time, Florian did laugh. "Do you even know where the stores are?"

Noir exhaled a particularly thick cloud of smoke which obscured his features for a moment, so that Florian couldn't tell whether the pink tinge on his cheeks was actually there. "I imagine there are signs."

"Thank you, Noir, but I think both of us will feel better if I do the shopping." Florian stepped through the rapidly-dispersing cloud of smoke, kissed Noir's cheek, and turned back to the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Be careful," Noir called after him.

"Aren't I always?"

Florian chose to ignore the sceptical expression that crossed Noir's face as he closed the door behind him.

---

"Excuse me," Florian heard someone say as he crossed the road between the butcher's shop and the bakery, but, as the voice was rather distant, he chose to ignore it.

"Excuse me, sir," the voice repeated, and this time, Florian felt a light touch on his elbow. "Forgive me if I seem rude, but are you Florian du Rochefort?"

Florian turned, barely conscious of his own expression of blank confusion, and came face-to-face with a woman's polite smile. He glanced cursorily at her blonde hair, pinned back from her face, and her light, somewhat exotic silk dress, and nodded cautiously. "Yes, I am. Have we met, _mademoiselle_?"

The woman's smile grew wider, exposing a thin line of not-entirely-straight teeth. "Such a gentleman." She shook her head. "No, we haven't met. In fact, I came here hoping to make your acquaintance-- and, I must confess, by extension, the acquaintance of Count Courland." Her eyes, a very light shade of brown, met Florian's. "Is he with you, perhaps?"

"No, he is not." Florian tilted his head to the side very slightly. "Is this to do with a loan of some kind, or..."

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The woman laughed. "I haven't introduced myself properly yet. What must you think of me?"

"I assure you, _mademoiselle_, I have not judged you in any way." Florian smiled, mostly in order to satisfy a conciliatory impulse.

The woman's smile became a grin. "I'm glad. There's nothing more damning than a bad first impression." She inclined her head, but stopped just short of a bow. "My name is Ruby Brown. I came to Paris from America a year or so ago. Since then, I've been staying with friends, but as that's no longer an option, I need to find my own place, which, I'm sure you'll agree, requires money."

"And you'd like Count Courland to lend you the money to get started?" Florian ventured.

Ruby raised her index finger to the level of her mouth. "Close, but not quite. I've heard that the Count's hiring new staff. I wanted to apply for a position, but..." She laughed. "I'm embarrassed to admit it, but this part of the city is foreign to me, and I seem to have gotten lost on the way to Count Courland's home. I was just about to give up, actually, when I ran into you."

"It's a wonder you recognized me amid this crowd."

"Is it?" Ruby's eyes flicked over him, and Florian felt as though he was being measured for clothes that he wasn't quite sure he would ever want to wear. "There are very few men who carry themselves as... nobly, I suppose, as yourself. Besides, your beauty is legendary among the women of Paris."

"To my knowledge, most of the details of my life are legendary among the women of Paris."

"True enough." Ruby's grin withered into an expression most akin to cautious supplication. "I know it's relatively late, but do you think that Count Courland would mind terribly if I returned with you? I'd hate for this day to have been a complete loss just because I got a bit turned around."

Florian hesitated. "I'm not sure. As you say, it is rather late, and Count Courland has had a rather... trying day. I don't know how receptive he'd be."

"I see." Her face withered even further, into an expression of bleak disappointment. "Of course, I understand... it's just that, well, I really do need the work. I was hoping to start as soon as possible, and at this point, an extra day makes a big difference to me." She extended her hand slightly. "Are you sure there's no way I can see him today?"

Florian was the one to initiate eye contact this time: she faced his scrutiny bravely, as one who has nothing to hide. He saw strength in her, a stubborn tenacity that he knew Noir would respect. Try as he might, he could detect no insincerity in her, and there was a certain desperation in the set of her jaw that made him not only believe her, but feel sorry for her.

"I have some shopping to finish," he began, and her face lit up with gratitude. "I shouldn't be too long. After that, you can come back with me, but I can't promise that Count Courland will agree to see you."

"Thank you, Monsieur de Rochefort." Ruby's shoulders dipped into an abbreviated bow. "You're a very good man."

"You do me too much honour." Florian returned her bow. "As I've said, I can't promise you anything."

"Just the same, I appreciate the favour." Ruby stepped forward to stand beside him, and gestured to the parcels he was carrying. "Can I help you with those?"

"Thank you, but I believe I can manage these." Florian's brow creased. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind carrying the bread, though? It can be rather awkward."

"Of course." Ruby winked at him. "It's good practice for my new job."

"You're very confident."

"It's better than the alternative, isn't it?" Ruby frowned as they began to walk toward the bakery. "Pessimism tends to poison everything."

"True enough," Florian said. As he held the door of the shop open for her, and she walked through, he stole another glance at her, hoping that this one would catch her unguarded. And, in fact, he did believe that he saw something more, some tempering that was a product of neither wisdom nor ordinary experience, and which certainly didn't belong alongside the image of her innocent strength.

And then, she was smiling at him again, and the person he had been seeing seemed to evaporate right before his eyes. "Are you hoping for a career as a doorman?"

Florian laughed, but the sound was no longer quite as sincere. "Forgive me. I must have been dreaming."

He would honour his promise to this woman, but he made another, to himself, that he would not let her out of his sight until he was sure which of her faces, if either, could be trusted.


	2. Success and Regret

Chapter 2: Success and Regret

"Florian... would you care to remind me of what we discussed before you left the house?"

Florian's back straightened unconsciously as he met Noir's eyes, as well as the suppressed aggression contained therein. "You were making sure that I wasn't on the verge of exhaustion."

"After that."

"We discussed the difficulty of finding decent help."

"And, as I recall, your weakness for hard-luck stories."

Florian nodded. "We may have... touched on such a thing, yes."

"Yes, I believe so." Noir's fingers drummed against the mantelpiece for a moment, and stilled just as quickly. "Bearing all that in mind, would you please explain why a stranger is awaiting an interview in my drawing room?"

"If you don't want to see her, I can send her away. I made it clear that you might refuse."

"That's not the point!" Noir's voice dropped to a nearly-frantic hiss. "The point is that you have a very, very bad habit of picking up strays, and sooner or later, one of them is going to maul us in our sleep."

"She's an unemployed woman, Ray, not a rabid wolverine." Florian was always careful to use his lover's given name where their conversation might be overheard by someone outside their inner circle. "You talk as though I brought home a member of the Black Hand."

"Perhaps you did. Louise Tassel had half of Paris fooled before her stunt on the Eiffel tower." Noir sighed. "Even if she's not a member of the Black Hand, she could be any one of a thousand other things. How do you know that she won't steal any silver we give her to polish?"

"How do you know that about any of them?" Florian gestured to the pile of applications that still adorned Noir's desk. "As I understand things, that's what the interview's for."

Noir turned his face to the wall and growled. "I'm busy."

"Five minutes. If you don't like her, you can just send her away. If you're not sure, you can always ask her to come back tomorrow." Florian softened his eyes to the point of supplication. "That's all I'm asking, Ray."

With a frustrated noise, Noir turned from the mantel and moved to sit behind his desk. "Your damn compassion is going to be the death of me." He raised his left index finger imperiously. "She's got ten minutes, starting now. If I don't like her, which I'm very certain I won't, she leaves, and we never speak of this again. Got it?"

"Perfectly." As he opened the study door, Florian glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you, Ray. I appreciate this very much."

"Don't be too grateful." Noir grinned devilishly. "I reserve 'I-told-you-so' privileges."

Florian laughed as he stepped out into the hallway. "I'm not worried."

__

Not, at least, his mind finished for him, _about enduring your gloating._

----

As Florian and Ruby came to the slightly-ajar door of Noir's study, Florian touched her shoulder gently. "Good luck," he whispered.

She grinned over her shoulder at him. "Thank you, but I won't need it. It's all about optimism, remember?" Without waiting for a response, she stepped into the study, and Florian entered behind her, hoping Noir wouldn't be put off immediately by the fact that she hadn't waited to be introduced.

"Good afternoon. I presume you're Ray Balzac Courland?" Ruby bowed to Noir as Florian closed the door behind them.

"That's right," Florian interjected, hoping to salvage some of the situation's propriety. "Ray, this is Ruby Brown."

"A pleasure to meet you," Ruby added.

Florian watched Ray take a leisurely drag on his cigar, exhale the smoke, and set the cigar aside before he spoke. "Thank you. Won't you take a seat?"

"Of course. Thank you." Ruby settled herself into one of the chairs in front of Noir's desk, and Florian took up a position against the wall by the door. "First of all, I'd like to tell you how grateful I am to you for agreeing to see me. I understand that you're a very busy man, and I can only imagine how precious your time must be."

Noir blinked, and Florian could tell that Ruby's articulate politeness had caught him off guard. "I'm sure you'll appreciate, then, why we'll have to keep this meeting short."

Ruby nodded. "Of course."

"Good." Noir cleared his throat. "I suppose I'll begin by asking you the most obvious question: why do you want to work here?"

"Well, I'll confess that I don't really feel a burning desire to work 'here'." Ruby crossed her legs. "I need a job, and I've done some domestic work in the past, so it seemed like a good opportunity." She reached into a pocket of her dress and pulled out two folded sheets of paper. "Here are copies of my references from those jobs. I have done other work, but if you want to see anything from those jobs, it could take a while. I'd need to send to America for them."

Noir unfolded the papers, scanned them, and set them back on his desk. "Your employers seem impressed with your performance."

"They were easy to get along with."

"Evidently." Noir leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "Things are not always easy for the staff here."

"I'm not worried," Ruby replied brightly. "You may be strict, but I believe you're a fair employer."

"Really? And how did you come to that conclusion?"

Ruby gestured in Florian's direction. "I doubt that Monsieur du Rochefort would stand for anything less."

Noir followed the movement of Ruby's hand, and his gaze crossed Florian's for a moment. "You're perfectly correct. If it weren't for Florian's influence, who knows what kind of monster I would be?" He smiled at the private joke, and Florian mirrored his expression.

"Thankfully, we'll never find out," he replied.

The glint in Noir's eyes softened for an instant before reverting to a businesslike edge. "And what do you expect from this job?" he asked Ruby.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Enough money to live on, and decent hours."

"You do realize that, as we're not taking on any live-in staff at the moment, you'll need to travel from your home to work?"

"Not a problem." Ruby glanced over her shoulder again. "Monsieur du Rochefort was kind enough to show me around the district, so I don't need to worry about getting lost."

"How very characteristic of you, Florian." Noir's attention shifted back to Ruby as she settled back into her former position. "In our service, you may be required to do a variety of tasks, which may include but are not limited to cleaning, laundry, shopping, and decorating for any events that may take place here. Is there anything you can think of, any limitation, which may prevent you from executing these tasks properly?"

"It all sounds fairly standard." Ruby uncrossed her legs. "I'm sure I can handle it."

Noir's eyes met Florian's, and the inclination of his head communicated a question to Florian: _What do you think?_

In response, Florian shrugged, and smiled. _Would I have brought her here if I didn't think she deserved a chance?_

Whether Noir intuited this message, Florian couldn't say. However, it didn't seem to matter: Florian could see that Noir's decision was already made, and he couldn't imagine it being anything but favourable to Ruby. _She's almost too good to be true. _Apprehension followed the path that these words blazed through Florian's mind, however, and he recalled his suspicion of her. _Too good to be true... I hope, for our sake, that she isn't._

"I suppose I only have one more question for you," Noir was saying when Florian came back to reality. "Can you think of any extenuating circumstance which might prevent you from fulfilling your duties, and which we should be aware of?"

"None whatsoever," Ruby answered, almost too quickly, and Florian dismissed the nervousness that sank into his stomach at these words as a product of his as-yet-unfounded concern.

---

"So, you got the job?"

Ruby stirred her coffee absently, watching the milk swirl into it as though she were profoundly bored. "Of course. It wasn't difficult."

"I presume Ray didn't follow up on your references?" Solomon took a bite of his croissant.

"Even if he does, my work should be done by the time he realizes they're forgeries." Ruby smiled. "You didn't tell me that his lover was such an easy mark."

"Florian?" Solomon frowned. "Don't take him lightly. On the surface, he seems a bit flighty, but he can be surprisingly perceptive."

Ruby waved her hand gently, as though she were drying her nail polish. "Maybe. I doubt that he'll present much of a problem, though. Thus far, he's done a fantastic job of making my work easier."

"Still, be careful. I don't want this job to go up in smoke because you didn't take it seriously enough."

"You worry far too much, Solomon." Ruby grinned. "Has the novelty worn out of your enforced vacation already?"

"I think that's even less funny the second time around."

Ruby's grin faded into a pout. "Have I struck a nerve? I'm sorry, Solomon." She reached across the table, and touched his hand. "I promise to be more careful with your fragile heart in the future."

"Stop it, Ruby." Solomon jerked his hand away from her, and grimaced. "You never could tell when playtime was over."

Ruby sighed. "Alright." She sipped her coffee, and looked out at the street beyond the cafe terrace on which they were seated. "You know, Solomon," she said, very conversationally, without even looking back at him, "you were a great detective, no matter what any of them said."

Solomon's brief hesitation was the only indication of the effect that Ruby's words had produced in him. "Coming from you, I'm not sure whether I should take that as a compliment. There was a time, not so long ago, when you'd as soon have killed a cop as look at one."

"You were different, though." Ruby turned back to face him. "Even when you were in full-out crusader mode... you weren't like the rest of them."

Solomon sniffed. "What was the difference?"

"That's easy." Ruby took a larger swallow of her coffee. "You were honest. You still are, as a matter of fact." She chuckled. "If you have one fault, Solomon Sugar, it's that you're too genuine for your own good. You can't betray your true nature any more than I can fly to America on a broomstick, and that nature is of the very best kind."

Solomon studied the remains of his croissant for a long while before saying, somewhat anticlimactically, "I wouldn't be so sure about the broomstick."

Ruby buried her smile beneath an expression of feigned offence. "You never had any confidence in me before, Solomon. Why the sudden turnaround?"

He did look up at her then, and there was a trace of the old spark in his eyes, a glowing ember of the idealistic blaze that she could still recall so distinctly. "What would have been the point in showing it? You've always had enough confidence in yourself for both of us."

She met his eyes, and allowed the faintest inkling of her true feelings to flow into her face, just enough for him to glimpse without giving anything away. "Do you really think so?" she asked softly.

The silence that followed was nearly as heavy as their shared past.


	3. Humility and Pride

Chapter 3: Humility and Pride

"So? What do you think?"

Florian looked up from the book in his lap. "About what?"

Noir took a sip from the goblet of brandy on the table beside him. "The new servant, Ruby."

"Oh." Florian shrugged. "She seems qualified, and genuine. I don't see what more we could have asked for."

Noir grunted, and the sound covered the click of crystal on mahogany as he set his brandy aside again. "I don't know. I was impressed by her at first, but... something bothers me." He paused, and Florian waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. "It's just instinct, I guess," he said finally, with a frustrated wave of his hand.

"It may also just be that you're nervous about having someone you don't completely trust around the house." Florian nodded in the direction of the crystal goblet. "That was stolen from Mme. Foucauld's collection at the party two weeks ago, wasn't it?"

"Can't hide anything from you, can I?" Noir grinned.

"I'd be hurt if you tried." With a yawn, Florian closed his book. "It's getting late: I should go to bed."

Noir glanced at the nearest clock, and frowned. "It's barely nine-thirty."

"Well, Ruby's going to be here at six for her first day of work, and I'd rather greet her properly than stagger out of bed at the sound of the doorbell." Florian rose from his chair and replaced his book on the appropriate shelf. "We need to create a professional atmosphere from the very start if we expect her to respect us as authority figures."

"Where did you read that drivel?"

Florian straightened his shoulders defensively, but was powerless to hide his smile. "Do you think I couldn't make up something like that on my own?"

"I think that anything you came up with would be infinitely more appropriate."

"You have far too much confidence in my linguistic abilities."

Noir smirked. "If it weren't for your linguistic abilities, we would likely still be dancing around each other."

Florian laughed. "Granted." He circled Noir's chair, and leaned down over the backrest to kiss his cheek. "Good night."

As he backed away, Noir seized his tie and pressed their lips together forcefully. "Good night," he said, and the sensation of his breath on Florian's lips was as thrilling as it had been the first time, and as Florian imagined it would be each time to come.

Noir's smirk reappeared as he released his prey. "You seem dazed."

"I'm sure it's just your imagination," Florian replied.

It was a credit to his aristocratic training that he managed to escape the library without stumbling into any of the furniture.

---

True to his word, Florian was awake and dressed fifteen minutes before six the next morning; true to hers, Ruby arrived almost exactly at six. "Good morning!" she said brightly as he opened the door. "Didn't I tell you that I'd get the job?"

Florian smiled. "Yes, you did. Congratulations once again." His gaze moved over her loose white blouse, long black skirt, and sensible black shoes, and he held back an approving nod. Though Noir had never gotten around to instituting a formal dress code, he still insisted that his staff dress presentably.

Ruby scoffed. "Don't congratulate me. It's all the power of positive thinking." She tapped her right temple twice, as though to illustrate her point. "So, where to? I'm at your service, Monsieur du Rochefort." She executed a curtsy that Florian was sure would have made his mother positively ill, had she been there to see it.

"Well, first, you can just call me Florian. I'm not much for formalities." Florian began to lead her into the drawing room, and paused as he reached for the door handle. "Ray, on the other hand, seems to prefer them, so you should always address him accordingly."

"Understood... Florian." The emphasis which she placed on his name almost struck Florian as an insult, but he put the idea out of his mind immediately.

"This is the first of two drawing rooms, and the one which we use most often." Florian paused once again, this time to give Ruby a chance to look around the room. "Ray is adamant about keeping this room, as well as the library upstairs, absolutely spotless, which usually means dusting once or twice a day." He smiled. "Unfortunately, since it's usually the most inexperienced staff member who receives this duty, you may be spending a lot of time in here."

"Oh, believe me, I don't mind." Ruby trailed her hand over an ornate sculpture, which stood on an even more ornate table. "I'm not sure if I told you yesterday, but I love the atmosphere of your home. It's so... tasteful. Very dignified." She pursed her lips in evident thought. "Welcoming, also, although that might have more to do with your personality than with the house itself."

"Your compliments are appreciated," Florian said modestly as they returned to the corridor. "Now, the second drawing room..."

In this way, they visited the entire first floor of Noir's mansion, excepting only the kitchen, which Florian dared not enter so close to mealtime for fear of provoking the cook's wrath, and Noir's study. "You may be required to make the beds, depending on how the tasks are apportioned on any given day," Florian said as they ascended to the second floor. "The three immediately to our right are guest rooms, which will require basic cleaning about once a week. Those to our left belong to myself and Ray, and will be somewhat more... demanding."

"Well, as long as you don't leave liquor bottles leaking on the carpet and expect me to get the stains out, I'm sure I'll be able to handle it." Ruby prefaced this remark with a laugh, but Florian, who had stomached more than enough false mirth at enough strained parties to recognize it, immediately saw through to the darker, undefined emotion beneath it. His lips parted slightly, driven by a desire to know what had affected her so suddenly, but he swallowed the words instead of speaking them. _It's none of my business._

"Were you about to say something?" Ruby asked.

Florian shook his head. "No. I apologize." He nodded back to the staircase. "Come. I'll introduce you to the rest of the staff."

Ruby glanced down the corridor one last time before following Florian downstairs. "I noticed another room upstairs. I presume that was the library?"

"Yes."

"I see." As they crossed from the staircase to the dining room, Ruby pointed to the closed door of Noir's study. "I forget: did you show me that one?"

Florian's gaze followed the path of her finger. "You won't need to concern yourself with that one."

"A mystery room? How... intriguing." Ruby smirked, and the expression was nearly devilish.

Florian forced himself to laugh, and believed that his own feigned lightness was less transparent than hers had been. "Hardly as much as all that. It's Ray's study, but he doesn't allow any of the servants to clean it. It's not that he's particularly mistrustful... but I'm sure you appreciate that his work places him in the possession of particularly sensitive information, which in turn forces him to be discreet."

"Of course." Ruby's expression metamorphosed from devilish to beatific. "I'm sure I'll be well occupied without an extra room to take care of."

"That's the spirit," Florian said, returning her smile with one of his own.

Had his conscience allowed him to believe any of the suspicions that were quickly rising into his mind, he might have dismissed her then and there.

---

"You spend too much time here. What if someone sees you?"

Ruby trailed her hand lazily over the floor beside Solomon's couch, on which she was lying. "Would it make any great difference if they did?" She grinned. "Are you worried for your reputation, Solomon? It might actually be a good thing if people think we're in some sort of relationship... I believe that the landlady may be suspicious of the attention you've been paying to that handsome new courier."

Solomon grimaced. "If she knew as much about you as I do, she'd know that no man in his right mind would take you as a lover."

"That's cruel, Solomon." Ruby looked away from him and folded her arms over her chest.

"Don't look for any sympathy from me. I saw what you did to the last man who had the dubious honour of sharing your bed."

Ruby chuckled. "Have you decided that, after all, I wasn't justified?"

"Of course not. We agreed on that long ago."

"Though, as I remember it, you took a while to see reason." Ruby sat up, unfolded her arms, and swung her legs to the floor. "You're worried about Florian seeing us, of course."

"Well, I'm sure you can see how your position would be compromised if anyone belonging Ray's household were to draw a connection between us. Ray and Florian both know that I will stop at nothing to expose him, and even you might not be able to talk your way out of that mess."

"And do you think I am so foolish as to let myself be followed?"

"No. However, you can't make yourself completely invisible. It takes only a second to be glimpsed by the wrong party: you might not even be aware of it if it happens."

"Should I feel honoured by this crash course in stealth, or offended that you believe I need it?"

"I'm simply being cautious." Solomon rose from his chair, and crossed to the living room's small window. "You could do with a bit more caution yourself, Ruby."

"Duly noted." Ruby stood as well, and joined Solomon at the window, stopping a single step behind him. "For the record, though, my methods have gotten me this far."

"Pride comes before a fall."

"Ah, but humility is itself a fall." She crossed the last step, and leaned her head against his shoulder. He stiffened, but made no effort to discourage the contact. "Neither of us could ever be content with being humble... could we, Solomon?"

"It usually was the root of our problems," he agreed.

She backed away from him, but did not turn around. "Well, I'm determined to make it my strength."

"Good luck," he said, too seriously.

Ruby grinned, entirely for her own benefit. "Save your luck. I don't believe in it."


	4. A Convergence of Choice

Chapter 4: A Convergence of Choice

The first few weeks of Ruby's employment passed smoothly: as far as Florian could tell, she was fitting into the staff seamlessly, and not even Noir, as demanding as he could be, had found anything in her performance worthy of reproach. Perhaps more importantly, Florian had seen no more evidence of her second, infinitely more tempered face; each day that she arrived at work, she was the very model of an optimistic, enthusiastic employee, and he was nearly able to forget that the other woman existed.

Nearly.

On Sunday, one of Ruby's days off, Noir went to collect a diamond bracelet that some woman, whose name escaped Florian at the time, would not stop bragging about. "It's almost worth being caught just to shut her up," Noir had told Florian moments before his departure.

Florian, remembering Ruby's philosophy, had felt a touch of foreboding. "You shouldn't talk like that."

Noir, with his customary confidence, had only grinned, somewhat mockingly. "My dear Florian, it seems you've become remarkably superstitious." Almost immediately, his features had softened. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I always am, aren't I?"

"I suppose," Florian had been forced to acquiesce.

However, as the sun set, and the evening grew darker, even Florian's trust in his lover's talents had begun to erode. He was unable to concentrate on anything; his dinner was tasteless. No matter what he tried to focus on, his mind seemed to insist on returning to its categorization of all the dangers that Noir, at that very moment, might be facing, and all the ways in which he might fall prey to them.

_What's wrong with me? He's been out on more dangerous escapades before, and I've never gotten this worked up. What's different this time?_ Even as he sat on Noir's bed, though, interrogating himself with the ferocity of an Inquisitor, Florian knew the answer. 

"It's because of her," he muttered. A chill passed through him, and he folded his arms over his chest.

"Because of who?" Noir's voice said from the window, and Florian realized that the chill had been the product of the breeze that accompanied his return.

"Welcome back," he said as he rose, and turned to face Noir. The familiar top hat and cape brought a rush of nostalgia for the not-so-distant past, and the image of Noir sprawled carelessly in the window frame with his whip lying across his stomach was so powerful that Florian wished for any glimmer of the artist's talent. As things were, he had to settle for enshrining the image in his memory. "Is everything alright?"

Noir chuckled, and swung himself into the room in a swirl of black velvet. "Of course. Didn't I tell you it would be?" He raised his left hand, and allowed the bracelet to dangle from his fingertips; even in the dim light of the bedroom, it was nearly breathtaking. "It was even simpler than I'd planned: she'd had a bit too much to drink by the time I arrived." He laughed. "She'll probably spend two days searching the place, sure that she dropped it in a stupor."

Despite himself, Florian smiled. "Well, I'm sure it won't be as painful as listening to her recite that conversation with the jeweller three times in as many weeks."

"I doubt even thumbscrews are that painful." Noir reached behind him to close the window, and advanced toward Florian, tossing his hat on the bed as he went. "How was your evening? I hope you didn't spend it worrying about me."

In reply, Florian cleared the remaining distance between them, and embraced Noir with a fervour that he was powerless to conceal. "I missed you."

Noir tensed, and Florian felt the familiar caress of his fingers, altered somewhat by leather gloves, through his hair. "What is it, Florian?"

"I don't know." Florian's hold on Noir intensified. "I'm sorry. I'm just..."

With some effort, Noir managed to extricate himself from Florian, and held his lover at arm's length. "Calm down." He cupped Florian's chin in his hand, and lifted his head until their eyes met. "Did something happen while I was away?"

Florian shook his head. "No. It's..."

"It's what?"

In the midst of his whirling thoughts, Florian tried to call enough order from the chaos to define it appropriately. There was the ordinary fear, that was simply an unfortunate consequence of Noir's chosen pastime. There was a touch of rapidly-diminishing loneliness. Beneath those feelings, there was a nearly imperceptible foreboding, and a fierce certainty, almost a premonition, that something was about to happen, and there was, perhaps, no way for either of them to stop it.

Beneath that, his suspicion of Ruby reasserted its existence.

Suddenly conscious of Noir's unwavering gaze, Florian returned to his ordinary senses. "I'm sorry, Noir. It must be something about tonight that got to me... perhaps I'm coming down with something again." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he reproached himself.

A mental voice, in a timbre strangely akin to Noir's, gave him the answer. _It's because, if you get her dismissed, you'll always wonder whether you did the right thing, or whether you punished an innocent woman for your paranoia. _

"You're too good," the true Noir was saying around a sigh when Florian's attention returned to him. "I hate seeing you like this." His hands slid down Florian's sides, and came to rest on his lower back before he kissed him. "Florian..," he said as their lips parted, "do you want me to stop?"

Through half-lidded eyes, Florian searched his face. "What?"

"Do you want me to stop... this?" Noir gestured to his clothing, and the diamond bracelet that, Florian now noticed, had been cast onto the bed with his hat. "I will, if you ask me to. I'll gladly do it, if it will make you happy."

"I am happy."

"Happier, then." Noir's right hand pressed against his cheek. "I'd give anything not to see you upset like this."

Florian shook his head again. "It's not that, though."

"Well, the worry isn't helping, certainly."

Almost unconsciously, Florian leaned into Noir's touch. "How could I ask you to do that?" he whispered. "The thefts, the subterfuge... it's part of you, Noir. It's who you are." He sighed. "I won't pretend I don't wish things were different, sometimes... but I love you as you are, and I would never do anything, or ask you to do anything, to change yourself." He lifted his own hand, and rested it on the back of Noir's. "Do you understand?"

"Completely." Florian had just enough time to register the scintillation of Noir's eyes before Noir kissed him again, infinitely more tenderly than he had only moments ago. "I love you."

Desperation, of the sort which is an instinctive human reaction to impending crisis, suffused Florian, and his eyes narrowed considerably. "Show me," he breathed.

Noir kissed him for the third time, and tenderness became passion. "With pleasure," he replied.

---

"Take a look at this."

Ruby lifted the newspaper that Solomon had so unceremoniously dropped into her lap as though it carried a particularly potent disease. "You know how much I hate reading the news. It's either sensationalistic or depressing... or, most often, both." She dropped it onto the floor. "Summarize it for me?"

Solomon sighed, but obeyed. "There's been another robbery attributed to the Phantom Thief Noir-- a diamond bracelet which, its owner reports, was taken from her home during a party a few nights ago."

"How do they know it's Noir? You know how these society matrons get at parties: she may have been so drunk that she misplaced it." Ruby laughed. "One of the servants may even have mixed it up with the garbage, and made some vagrant very happy."

"I doubt it." Despite his serious mood, Solomon chuckled. "The entire incident fits Noir perfectly: the item was unique, valuable, and its owner was bragging about it to anyone who would listen."

"To hear you tell the story, it sounds as though Noir may have been motivated by a desire to repay this woman for her vulgarity." Ruby collected the newspaper from the floor, and scanned the article. "Who was it, anyway?"

"Some minor noble-- Lucille de Boisclair." Solomon shrugged. "As for Noir's motivations, he does tend toward that sort of poetic justice."

"Poetic justice?" Ruby arched an eyebrow. "It sounds like childish vengeance to me."

A grin spread across Solomon's face. "Agreed, which is more evidence against Ray Balzac Courland. Did you know he's barely twenty, if that?"

"Really? I never would have guessed." Ruby stretched her arms out in front of her. "Quite the prodigy."

"Yes." Obvious bitterness framed Solomon's reply.

"Even a prodigy can be defeated, though," Ruby added, partly to encourage herself and partly to comfort Solomon. "Do you think he'd be stupid enough to keep it at home?"

"Where else? He doesn't need the money, certainly, so he probably wouldn't sell it, and I wouldn't trust a banker with stolen jewels."

"And I can't really picture him burying them in the backyard." Ruby folded the newspaper and set it aside. "If I can get my hands on this bracelet, you'll have all the proof you need."

Solomon grinned, as though this was a certainty. "Any idea where to look yet?"

Ruby's expression mirrored his. "I know just the place," she said.


	5. Powerless

Chapter 5: Powerless

By the following Monday, Ruby was ready.

She spent the morning executing her tasks mechanically, allowing them just enough of her attention to avoid botching them completely. The rest of her focus was bent on tracking the movements of the mansion's other occupants, particularly those around the general area of Count Courland's study. She had anticipated that that room would be difficult to access, given that Count Courland so rarely left it, and kept it locked when he did; however, Ruby Brown would not be defeated. She would leave the Count's property with proof of his double life, no matter what was required of her.

There are advantages to believing oneself completely amoral.

Despite her resolve, however, no opportunity to sneak into the Count's study had presented itself by the time her shift finished, and so Ruby was forced to alter her tactics. On the pretence of emptying stagnant water from some of the drawing room's vases, she gained access to the kitchen where, while the cook was distracted by dinner, she opened the lock of the rarely-used back door. Then, with her point of ingress virtually assured, she left the mansion and lingered amid the thick foliage of the grounds until, finally, the light in the study windows went out. _Just my luck: he's a workaholic._

She waited another twenty minutes before she moved from her hiding place, circled around the building, and tried the kitchen door. As she had expected, no one had thought to check it, and she stepped into Count Courland's home as easily as though she belonged there.

Though there didn't seem to be anyone else around, Ruby took no chances in making her way to the study door. She didn't need to try it to know that it was locked, but she had underestimated the complexity of the bolt. _There's no way I can pick this: I'll need the key._

Her gaze slid to the staircase, and she narrowed her eyes. _I had better enlist some assistance._

---

Florian, who had never been a particularly deep sleeper, was startled out of a hazy dream by the sound of a gun's hammer cocking no more than two inches from his ear. The voice that followed it sent waves of cold fear and hot self-loathing alternating down his spine.

"Make a sound, and I'll kill you and your boyfriend before he knows what's going on," Ruby whispered. When Florian gave no sign that he had heard her, she added, "Nod if you understand me."

Mechanically, Florian obeyed, and Ruby released the gun's hammer. "What are you doing?" he breathed, and immediately wondered whether he should have spoken.

If he had erred, though, Ruby did not correct him. "I imagine you have a key to the study."

Florian exhaled, not daring to chuckle. "There's not enough money in there to kill anyone over."

"Unfortunately for you, it's not the money I'm after." The muzzle of the gun tapped lightly against his shoulder, and he heard the hammer click once again. "Get up, slowly."

Once again, Florian obeyed. Ruby had moved back toward the bedroom door, just far enough to place herself out of his reach without hampering her aim. Florian examined the pistol she carried, and was certain that he'd seen it, or another very like it, somewhere before. However, the recollection was foggy, and there were more important matters to consider at the moment.

"Where's the key?" she asked, with terrifying calm.

"In my jacket," he replied.

"Where's the jacket?"

Florian nodded to the wardrobe. "In there."

Without lowering her gun arm, Ruby cleared a path between Florian and the wardrobe, and nodded. "Get it."

By the time that Florian had extracted the key ring from his jacket pocket, Ruby was already behind him, and her gun was pressing uncomfortably into his lower back. "Go downstairs, very casually," she whispered into his ear, in a vile parody of sensuality, "and let me in."

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Nothing," was her immediate reply.

With no preferable choice, Florian continued to follow her commands. No light was visible beneath Noir's bedroom door, and the few servants who still lived in the mansion were much too far away to provide any assistance. Though this meant that he was alone, Florian was nonetheless able to draw some comfort from the fact that, if no one else discovered her, Ruby would probably not resort to murder.

He did his best to ignore the voice in his mind that reminded him that, until now, he hadn't seriously imagined her capable of breaking into his home and turning a gun on him.

Once they were in the study, and the door was closed behind them, Ruby asked, "Where does he keep them? The jewels?"

"Jewels?" Florian echoed even as realization sank in. "We don't keep--"

"Save it. You're a pathetic liar, and your boyfriend's no Phantom." The gun pressed into his back a bit more forcefully. "I'm particularly interested in a certain diamond bracelet... however, I'll settle for any recently-stolen goods."

"How do you know they're here? He could keep them somewhere else."

Ruby chuckled. "Then it's not your lucky day: for wasting my time, I'll shoot you before I go get them from him." The gun slid up his spine. "Where are they?"

Florian glanced to the bookshelf which occupied one of the study's walls. "The covers of a few of the books on the bottom shelf are hollow. He keeps some of them in there."

"And the rest?"

"He gives them away."

Ruby snorted. "He's a regular Robin Hood." She jabbed the gun into his back, a bit too roughly. "Go on, then. Get them for me."

Despite Ruby's sudden impatience, however, Florian did not move this time. "Why are you doing this?" he asked instead.

"That's none of your business."

"Has Noir wronged you in any way?" Righteous indignation rose within Florian, conquering both his instinct for self-preservation and his fear. "Did he hurt anyone important to you? Is this about--" He trailed off suddenly, as the context in which he'd originally seen Ruby's gun came back to him: standing in a garden with Noir and Azura, with its recoil reverberating up his arm...

"Solomon," he said.

Ruby's hesitation lasted only a few seconds, but it was perfectly discernible. "What did you say?"

"You're working for Solomon, aren't you?" Florian craned his neck to look over his shoulder. "Listen, Ruby, I don't know what he's told you, but Solomon--"

"You seem to think I care whether your boyfriend's innocent. I really don't." Florian imagined that Ruby was sneering as she spoke her next words. "I'm not an idiot, like Solomon; I'm not a crusader. Right, and wrong... I couldn't care less."

"Then why are you here? Why not leave us alone?"

"Because I owe Solomon a favour, and this is what he asked me for."

"And for that, you'd kill us? Just because you owe Solomon a favour?"

The gun jabbed into his back again, more ferociously this time. "Of course I would. Do you think I care whether you live or die?" Ruby paused. "I'd have to settle for crippling the thief, of course, since Solomon can't arrest a corpse, but you?" Another chuckle. "Completely expendable."

"But--"

"That's enough. No more talking." Her gun moved to a position just below Florian's left shoulder. "Go get me that bracelet, or I'll blow your heart out through your chest."

In the split second he took to think, Florian decided that there was no point in further defiance. He was fully convinced that Ruby would follow through on her threat, and he saw no point in dying to delay her by another few moments.

"You'll have to give me some time. I don't know which one it's in."

"Just do it," Ruby snarled.

As Florian knelt before the bookcase and lifted the first of Noir's false tomes from the bottom shelf, he tried to dismiss the feeling that he was betraying Noir to save his own life. He told himself that there was no choice, that the guilt that Noir would undoubtedly feel if he died to protect his secret was worse than any repercussion Solomon could conjure, that the secret was out, no matter what he did. Still, a familiar sense of weakness, a complete inability to avoid being a detriment, much less of use, to the man he loved suffused him, and he hated it.

On a very basic level, he hated Ruby and Solomon for bringing this feeling to the surface, and making it impossible to ignore.

The bracelet was in the third book that Florian searched, and he threw it across the room as, in the moment, he imagined Judas must have thrown the silver back at the priests. "There it is." A flaring rage, directed at both himself and his antagonist, warmed his face through his eyes. "Will you leave us in peace now?"

Ruby, who had caught the bracelet almost effortlessly, pocketed it and shrugged. "Of course. Didn't I tell you that I don't care whether you live or die?" She lowered her gun, finally, and slid it into her empty skirt pocket. Florian might have tried to charge her if they had been closer, but he knew instinctively that he wouldn't be able to reach her before she could draw the gun again.

"Enjoy your evening, Florian," she said, and this time, his name was unmistakably an insult.

A great while passed between the time of her departure and that of Florian's rising from the study floor. Not a single coherent thought passed through his mind during that period.

He got no sleep that night.


	6. Defiance

Chapter 6: Defiance

When Ruby let herself back into his apartment, Solomon was pacing the living room like a caged animal. "Where have you been?" he growled. "I've been worried about you. I was sure you'd been caught."

Ruby sniffed. "Please. All you were worried about was the proof." She slid her hands into her pockets, withdrew the gun and the bracelet, and dropped them onto the couch as though they were equally filthy. "Here it is."

The ravenous look on Solomon's face was enough to disgust Ruby completely. "Finally," he breathed as he lifted the bracelet, cradling it like a holy relic. "Finally, they'll have to let me back on the force. I've just solved the biggest case of the century."

"Which, you may wish to recall, has just begun," Ruby interjected.

Solomon, however, was not listening. "You'll have to submit a statement, of course... they may want to question you, but we can work out your story later." His words came out is a madman's hushed whisper. "This is it. I finally have everything I need; I can finally bring that smug bastard down."

Ruby yawned. "Fascinating," she said, "and while I'd love to listen to you rave all night, I'm very tired. It's been a long day."

"Of course." Some glimmer of sanity returned to Solomon, and he smiled at her. "Thank you, Ruby. This is all your doing... I'm very grateful."

Ruby laughed. "You sound as though you believe I did it for you. All I wanted was to be out of your debt. If I hadn't owed you anything, I wouldn't have lifted a finger to help you."

"I don't believe that," Solomon said.

Ruby shrugged. "That's your problem."

---

Florian ventured out of his room before sunrise. His exhaustion was evident, and his body fought his will over even the simplest commands, but he still forced himself to erase all evidence of Ruby's visit from Noir's study. Part of him insisted that this act in itself constituted a betrayal, that he should tell Noir what had happened instead of hiding it. However, he couldn't bring himself to say the words, even in the privacy of the sleeping mansion. For one thing, he was humiliated not only at his part in the entire mess, but his complete inability to stop it; for another, he wasn't at all sure that he could trust Noir not to fly off the handle if he knew that his identity had been compromised.

Before he courted another disaster, Florian would do all he could to avert the one at hand.

Finding out Solomon's address was the easy part: during his quest to unmask Noir, Solomon had distributed his contact information to most of the staff, and Florian had salvaged one of these amateurish business cards from the drawing room's wastebasket a while ago, just in case. At the time, he had envisioned himself requiring Solomon's assistance; he had never seriously thought that Solomon would show himself to be an enemy.

Perhaps, as Noir was so fond of telling him, he was too good.

He suffered through breakfast silently, despite Noir's searching glances. Once he believed that he had choked down enough tasteless food, he tried to rise from the table, but Noir's firm grip on his wrist stopped him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

With a softness that scared even him, Florian replied, "Please don't make me lie to you."

Concern flashed through Noir's expression, followed closely by frustration. "Tell me," he pressed.

"Later. I promise."

"No." Noir's voice was almost petulant, and Florian felt himself growing aggravated. The situation was difficult enough without Noir acting like a child. "Tell me, now."

"I said later!" Florian didn't know whether he actually voiced the cry he heard as he jerked his arm out of Noir's hand, or whether it was simply reverberating through his mind. "I'm sorry," he said, more calmly, as soon as he was free, "but I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Florian!" Noir called after him, but by the time he thought to rise from the table, Florian was already halfway to the front door.

---

Solomon woke up to the sound of knocking on his apartment door: when he finally staggered out of bed, found his glasses, and made his way to the living room, he found Ruby sitting beside the window. "Don't disturb yourself," he said gruffly.

Ruby rose from her place, smoothed out her skirt, and smiled. "Ordinarily, I would have, but I doubt Monsieur du Rochefort wants to see me right now." She placed a somewhat-comforting hand on Solomon's shoulder, and let it linger there as she passed him on her way to the bedroom. "Good luck, Solomon."

Only once she had closed the bedroom door behind her did Solomon open the door; as Ruby had implied, Florian stood on the other side. "Florian. I wish I could say that this was a pleasant surprise, but it's a bit early to be welcoming. I'm sure you'll forgive me this lapse in propriety."

"I might, if I thought my goodwill meant anything to you." Florian's gaze flicked pointedly to the room behind Solomon. "May I come in?"

_Damn. Does he know already? _This thought made Solomon's stomach twist uncomfortably, butwith no other reason to deny Florian entry, he was forced to back away a step. "Of course. Please make yourself at home... at least, as well as you can." He narrowed his eyes sardonically. "I'm aware that it's a far cry from what you're used to, but we can't all be as... fortunate as Ray."

The intense glare that Florian levelled at him as he closed the front door, so out of place amid the aristocrat's habitual manners, both confirmed Solomon's suspicions and threw him completely off balance. _He knows._

"Why, Solomon?" Florian asked simply.

Solomon pushed the bridge of his glasses up slightly in feigned confusion. "Pardon me?"

Florian's expression became positively malicious. "I'm disgusted that you think I'd be taken in by that." He lifted his chin with just the slightest hint of imperiousness. "Why are you attacking Ray? How could you send that viper into our household?"

"Your precious Ray is a criminal." Solomon met Florian's anger with righteous indignation. "You can pretty it up however you like, Florian, but he's a thief, and he's eluded justice far too long already."

"Justice, indeed," Florian spat. "I suppose that, in turning a gun on me in my own home and forcing me to betray the man that I love, Ruby was serving the cause of justice, as well?"

Solomon clicked his tongue. _How could she have been that overt?_ "Ruby and I are only doing what needs to be done. As for your inconvenience--"

"Inconvenience!"

"--you seem to be forgetting, Florian," Solomon continued, raising his voice to make himself heard over Florian's outburst, "that you are an accessory to Ray's crimes. When he falls, you're going down with him... and, well, I'll spare you the line about pretty boys and prison." The corners of his mouth twitched. "They don't like nobles, either."

Florian was silent for a moment. "You almost have yourself convinced, don't you?" he said, very softly. "You almost believe that you're doing the right thing."

"I am doing the right thing. I'm getting a dangerous criminal off the streets."

"Dangerous?" A flash passed through Florian's eyes. "Noir has never hurt anyone. Yes, he's stolen, but only from those who can afford it. It's a wonder, most of the time, that they even notice anything missing."

Solomon snickered. "Now who's trying to convince himself?"

Florian advanced a step; with a great effort, Solomon stood his ground. "To think that we trusted you, during the fight with Azura. To think that, for a single moment, I believed you capable of understanding a morality more complex than the law." Betrayal seemed to radiate from Florian in waves, and Solomon felt his own resolve weakening. "To think that you can call Noir a criminal, when you yourself are so very despicable."

With an effort, Solomon met Florian's gaze, and settled his own features into blankness. "Is that what you woke me up for, to deliver that guilt trip?" He drew himself up to his full height, and frowned. "I'm a police officer, Florian."

"You used to be." Florian tilted his head to one side, and Solomon watched his hair trail after it in a wave. "Now, you're just pretending... like a five-year-old with a wooden pistol cut-out."

Solomon bared his teeth very slightly in an expression that fell somewhere between a sneer and a snarl. "What did you say to me?"

"Haven't you wondered, Solomon, why you were thrown off the force? Did you ever get far enough past your own victimization to wonder if, perhaps, you just weren't a good detective?" An undercurrent of compassion bled into Florian's expression, and Solomon found this as alarming as his rage had been. "I used to think that you were too good for it, that you had too intense a sense of self to serve the system as mindlessly as it required you to." He looked away, and shook his head. "It sickens me to be proven so wrong."

Something in these words shredded what was left of Solomon's resolve, and he looked away as well. "Get out of my home."

Florian's head snapped up. "Not without the bracelet."

"Forget it."

Florian advanced another step. "Do you think I'll hesitate to take it from you, Solomon?" he asked dangerously.

Solomon lifted his head boldly. "You can try. However, Ruby's in the next room, and I'm not sure whether she took the gun with her..." He forced himself to smirk. "You might be able to take me, but try it, and it's likely that you'll be going back to Noir in a box."

For a moment, Florian seemed to consider whether taking his revenge might not, after all, be worth such a price; in the end, though, he simply pushed past Solomon on his way to the door. "I'm not through fighting, Solomon," he said as his hand closed around the doorknob. "If you insist on coming for Ray, you'll have to go through me."

"I don't see that being a problem. You're just one man."

Florian glanced over his shoulder as he stepped out into the hall, and Solomon was absolutely powerless to define the expression on his face. "So are you," he said darkly before starting down the hall, leaving the door open behind him.

Even once it was closed, Solomon's heartbeat didn't slow.

Exhaustion overtook him suddenly, and he dropped onto the couch. Though Ruby must certainly have heard enough of the conversation to know that Florian was gone, she remained in the bedroom, and Solomon was grateful for the opportunity to sort through his thoughts without interference.

Florian hadn't even come close to reversing his conviction that Noir had earned the law's punishment: that, at least, was still black and white. The rest, however, seemed to have become cast in various shades of grey. For what felt like the first time, Solomon began to explore the contradictions that lay beyond the law's clear boundaries. He wondered whether a crime was defined by the act, or its consequences; he wondered how Florian could defend Noir so stubbornly without denying the culpability of his actions. He wondered whether the goal of bringing Noir to justice justified the measures to which he and Ruby had descended.

Most intensely of all, he wondered why he was so obsessed with catching a thief who, as Florian had so recently reminded him, had never hurt anyone.

"That boy's talents are wasted as the Count's concubine," Ruby said from the corridor, and Solomon looked up to see her balancing the gun on her index finger by its trigger guard. "It's been a long time since I heard such intensity." She smiled. "Since the last time I spoke to a certain Detective Sugar, who is no longer in service, I believe."

"I doubt he'd be anywhere near as intense if he weren't the Count's concubine," Solomon replied absently.

"You may be right." Ruby set the gun aside and came to sit beside Solomon. "You seem torn."

With a sigh, Solomon dragged the bracelet from its hiding place amid the couch cushions. "This is everything I've wanted since I was thrown off the force," he said as he turned it over in his hands. "With this, I can be a detective again, and be famous for solving the mystery of the Phantom Thief Noir on my own, something not even the entire force could do."

"True."

Solomon paused, and closed his hand over the bracelet. "So why do I feel sick when I look at it?"

Ruby leaned back, and stretched her arm out along the line of the couch's backrest. Her fingertips brushed Solomon's shoulder at a point just short of the strap of his sleeveless shirt. "Florian was right, Solomon. You are different."

"How?"

She shifted onto her side, and rested her head on her arm. "You're a good man. You have both the willingness and the ability to make a positive difference in the world." Her fingertips glided along his arm, and he was somewhat comforted. "But you're also infuriatingly law-abiding. You haven't completely understood that, sometimes, the right thing is punishable under the law." Her touch left him, and she sighed. "You haven't learned that, in the end, your heart should be the only authority in which you place your confidence."

In the wake of this speech, Solomon was silent, lost in the scintillation of the diamond bracelet in the morning sun. Nothing seemed clear to him anymore except its shimmering radiance, and the emotion that he had felt in the face of Florian's rage, that he could only know acknowledge properly-- regret.

"What do I do?" he finally asked her.

"Whatever your heart desires," she replied, with a laziness that was almost cryptic.

Another long moment passed before Solomon sighed and reached up to fasten the bracelet around Ruby's wrist. It was a bit too large, but he was reasonably certain that it wouldn't fall off easily. "There," he said with a smile. "Now you can't say I never gave you anything."

Ruby examined her new accessory with a mixture of curiosity, surprise, and satisfaction. "I never would have, in any case," she said. "I treasure the memories more than any jewels." As though to illustrate her point, she unfastened the bracelet and replaced it in her pocket. "How do you feel?"

Solomon closed his eyes. "Relieved."

When he opened them again, Ruby was grinning. "I'm happy for you," she said.


	7. Redemption

Chapter 7: Redemption

Upon leaving Solomon's apartment, Florian didn't return home immediately. Instead, he wandered through the streets, amid the morning rush of early shoppers and late employees. His fury still lingered, but it was spent, exhausted, and emptiness was beginning to take the place of the power it had lent him. His situation seemed irrevocably hopeless: despite the bravery of his parting words, Florian knew that Solomon held all the cards. Before the day was through, he could destroy every aspect of the life that Florian had built for himself, and there was nothing at all standing in his way.

Eventually, Florian happened upon a public garden, and threw himself down on the first empty bench he came to. It was thus that Ruby found him, completely unprepared for her arrival.

"My, my," she said, and Florian's head shot up in unconscious recognition of her voice even as she sat down beside him. "Such despair. It's heartbreaking."

Florian's breathing quickened, but he forced himself to deny the impulse to overt action. They were, after all, in the potential sight of countless people. "I wasn't aware that you had a heart."

"Well, believe me, I often wish I didn't." Ruby chuckled. "I understand that I'm the last person you want to see right now, much less have a friendly chat with, but I have something important to say." She smiled. "I promise you'll be pleased."

"I sincerely doubt it." Florian rose from the bench.

A shining object flashed through his peripheral vision as it flew over his shoulder, and he stared in shock at the diamond bracelet as it sparked against the pavement at his feet. "I would put that away, if I were you," Ruby advised. "It may be difficult to explain how you came by it... especially since it's in such high demand."

Even before she finished speaking, Florian had already retrieved the bracelet, and was examining it closely. Its surface bore fresh scratches, presumably from its recent contact with the pavement, but it was indeed the bracelet that, not twelve hours ago, Ruby had forced him to relinquish to her at gunpoint. _Does this mean that everything's alright? _was the first cautious thought to pierce the veil of his shock, and he spun around to see Ruby grinning in equal parts amusement and benevolence.

"You're welcome," she said helpfully.

Florian blinked, and dropped the bracelet into his jacket pocket as he sat down again. "Why?" he asked, almost dazedly.

Ruby shrugged. "Solomon had a change of heart after you left. I'm not entirely sure whether it was the threats or the passion that got to him, but either way, he lost the stomach for betrayal." She glanced at her own wrist, and Florian's gaze followed hers. "To be fair, he gave the bracelet to me, but can you imagine me wearing it?" She laughed. "Far too pretty."

Florian looked away from her, and sighed. "And it's that easy, then?" He looked back at her in abject annoyance. "Everything you put me through just gets undone by this?"

"Not at all. I'd be a fool to expect that." Ruby folded her hands in her lap. "For what it's worth, though, I'm glad he changed his mind." She smiled again. "You deserve a happy ending, and a shared jail cell isn't exactly the best environment for it."

In the silence that followed, Florian studied her, and finally voiced the question that he had been wanting to ask, he now realized, since he had met her. "Who are you?"

For a time, she was silent. "Just a woman," she said.

"Is your name even Ruby?"

She chuckled. "Does it matter at this point?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

She crossed her legs, and leaned forward, cupping her chin in one hand. "My name is Ruby now. Before... I was called something else."

Another silence, during which a more complex question distilled itself into articulacy within Florian's mind. "How could you attack us like this, just because someone told you to? We never did anything to you."

Ruby sighed. "I can't expect you to understand that. You're young, you're kind... and you're in love with a man who might not even betray you at gunpoint."

Florian smiled subtly as he remembered the many occasions on which Noir had proven Ruby correct: then, his attention returned to the task of satisfying his curiosity. "It was a man, then?" he guessed. When she didn't answer, he went a step further. "Solomon?"

She turned to face him, and laughed aloud. "Solomon and I? That's very entertaining." As the laughter died away, so too did her smile. "No: it was someone else. In fact, Solomon was the one who saved me from him."

"I don't see you requiring much saving."

These words halted the last vestiges of Ruby's vanishing smile for a moment. "Well, I was a very different person then." She exhaled heavily. "You can bet I wouldn't take anything like that from a man now."

Florian weighed the potential danger of pressing further for a moment before he said, "Anything like what?"

Ruby straightened up slowly, and ran a hand through her hair. "Would you prefer that I started at the beginning?"

"I have no wish to pry."

She raised an eyebrow. "But you'd like to know, of course."

Florian sighed. "Yes, I would... but not if it means forcing you to relive something that you'd rather not."

Ruby was silent for a time: then, she shook her head. "I know you deserve to hear the story, but since I'd rather not go back there right now, I believe I'll take advantage of your generosity." She glanced at him, and grinned. "Instead, would you permit me to ask you a very revealing question?"

"I don't see why not."

As though she were concentrating intensely, Ruby's eyes narrowed, and her mouth tensed. "Imagine, if you can, Ray becoming very abusive. Imagine having very little money, and no one that you feel comfortable turning to. Imagine that you had a child to provide for." She paused, and her words sank into Florian's mind like a weighted corpse into the Seine. "Imagine that you still loved him, despite all that. Would you stay with him?"

Determined to give the question the thought it deserved, Florian searched his mind for an answer. He imagined that every night he had spent under Noir's roof was like those he had spent under Azura's; he recalled the fear of falling victim to one-sided love that he had known before he had learned that Noir loved him in return. He felt once again the protective instinct that Noel had awoken in him, and it intensified the bleakness of Ruby's picture many times over.

And yet, because of her final condition, there was only one answer he could give. "If I still loved him," he said, as though his own words shocked him, "I would stay."

Something not entirely unlike relief crossed Ruby's face, and she smiled, for once, with unguarded sincerity. "Thank you," she said. "I often wondered whether it would have been different, if I were a man."

"Why should it have been?"

Ruby looked up, into the overcast sky. "I don't know. I guess I thought it was a sign of weakness, and that a man would have been stronger..." She chuckled. "A man wouldn't have been so afraid."

Florian denied the urge to place a hand on her shoulder. "In love, I've found, it's not really about strength or weakness. Sometimes, staying with someone regardless of what it costs you, just because you love them, is a sign of the rarest strength."

"Or stubbornness." Ruby laughed, but became serious again seconds later. "Thank you, Florian. You're a very wise man." She took his left hand in both of hers. "I'm sorry that I had to put you through so much. I'm not saying that I regret it, but I am sorry."

Florian smiled, without enthusiasm. "I'm not saying that I can forgive you yet, but I won't hold a grudge."

With another laugh, Ruby let go of his hand, and rose from the bench. "You're too kind for your own good."

Florian chuckled. "I get that a lot."

"Doubtlessly." Ruby had already begun to turn away when she froze, and pulled an envelope from her skirt pocket. "I nearly forgot: would you please give this to Ray when you get back home? It's my resignation letter."

"Prepared, I see," Florian said as he accepted the slightly-crumpled envelope. "I'll see that he gets it."

"Thank you." Ruby nodded, and began to turn around once again.

"Ruby," Florian called after her, and though she kept her back to him, she didn't walk away. "Good luck."

She turned her head, but not enough for him to see her face. "Same to you, Monsieur du Rochefort. I wager that you'll need it more than I will."

With that, she walked away, and Florian lingered in the garden until she had left his sight. Then, with her letter in his hand and the bracelet in his pocket, he began to make his own way home.

---

Florian returned home fully expecting to find Noir pacing around the rooms closest to the front door like a caged animal. Instead, the mansion's first floor was almost entirely empty, save for a few servants going about their duties.

"Is Count Courland out?" Florian asked one of them, a maid named Juliette.

"No, Sir," Juliette responded, without pausing in her dusting. "Last I saw him, he was in his study."

_Of course. He's busy today. I had forgotten. _"Thank you, Juliette," he replied, and crossed the hallway that led to Noir's study. The door was closed, but he had just barely finished knocking before Noir called, "Come in."

A bit uncertainly, Florian opened the door and stepped in. "Hello," he offered lamely.

Noir put down his pen, folded his arms on his desk, and looked up. His expression was almost unreadable, but Florian detected more than a bit of relief in it. "Welcome back," he said. "Now that you've returned, would you care to explain why you drove me so completely insane with worry that I can't even sign cheques properly?"

Florian smiled as he closed the door behind him and walked over to place the letter and the bracelet on Noir's desk. He watched Noir's features cycle through a range of emotions which included shock, fear, and rage before he sat down in the chair across from him.

"It's a very long story," he began.

---

"You don't have to leave."

Ruby paused in the act of packing her suitcase. "Hold on: I'm confused." She held one hand, palm up, out to Solomon. "First, you think I'm spending too much time here." She raised the other to a similar position. "Now, you don't want me to leave." She lowered them both, and sighed. "Which is it?"

Solomon frowned. "That was different: the mission couldn't be compromised. Now that it's over, though..." He folded his arms over his chest, rather protectively. "I thought we might be able to spend some time together... as friends, of course."

Ruby smiled. "Of course," she said noncommittally. "As friends."

A slight pink tinge tainted Solomon's features. "Can I at least treat you to dinner, in thanks for everything you did?"

"I didn't do anything," Ruby reminded him. "The Phantom Thief Noir is still on the streets, and you're still an ex-detective on the brink of starvation."

"That hurts."

Ruby pouted apologetically, but her false contrition fooled neither of them. "I'd love to," she said, "but if I don't leave now, I won't make it to the ship in time, and the ticket agents were quite clear on their no-refund-or-exchange policies."

"Are you sure?"

Ruby closed her suitcase. "Solomon, you don't want to get involved with me. You know who I am, what I've done, and what it means I'm capable of doing to you." She lifted the suitcase off the bed, and moved past him, into the short corridor of his apartment.

He followed her as far as the living room. "I'm not Nathaniel," he said.

She stopped then, and put her suitcase down. "I know you're not," she said, as she turned around and began to walk toward him again. "That's why I couldn't live with myself if the same thing happened again." She reached up to touch his face. "You don't deserve to die."

He remained still, with that look in his eye that, she recalled, meant that he was cataloguing every detail of his present situation. Even when she kissed him, he only blinked.

"You don't deserve me, Solomon Sugar," she whispered.

"I know," he replied, very sadly, "but I still want you."

She smiled gratefully, but in the end, she left anyway.


	8. Epilogue: Ruby Brown

She always knew that she would never be happy.

Oh, she tried, like any other human being would have in her place.

She did her best.

She bought all the right clothes, read all the right magazines, and said all the right things.

She found someone she believed was the right man, and did everything she could,

And it still wasn't enough.

Some things cannot be moved.

Even once she was married, and he had begun to shout at her,

She stayed with him.

Even once he raised his hand to her, and she started wearing long sleeves in the summer,

She didn't give up.

Even once she found out she was pregnant, and her fate was no longer her own,

She refused to surrender.

Her courage, at least, was commendable.

There did, of course, come a day when she reached her limit,

The one she had known, but never believed, she possessed.

She recalls it in brief images:

A frying pan.

A broken plate.

A soiled kitchen floor.

A wet sound, as though someone had hit a grapefruit with a hammer.

Blood, a surprisingly small amount, drying on her dress,

Almost directly under the protrusion of her stomach.

After that, she ran.

It's likely the law would have given her a light sentence.

She could certainly have carried off an insanity plea.

Besides, in all fairness, she hadn't killed him;

He was still breathing, though his mind was dead.

But she ran anyway.

She felt no guilt: she had paid for her crime in advance.

She gave birth to her child in secret;

It was stillborn, and despite her grief, she thanked God for this small mercy.

Her new life was no place for a child, and

She was far too selfish to have contemplated giving it up.

She never saw her child's face.

Years later, another man entered her life.

He was strong, and kind, and he loved her,

In all the ways that her husband had not.

By then, though, she had been through too much,

And though she felt something for him,

She could not love him.

She could not love anyone, and so, she remained alone.

She would be the first to admit that, most nights,

She wishes she had stayed.

She wishes for his arm around her, his breath on her throat.

She wonders what it would feel like, to be loved,

And finds it hard to forgive herself for losing her one chance to find out.

This, perhaps, is her punishment, for trying to be happy.


End file.
